


A Bit of Hope

by Slaskia



Series: Astral Aligned Continuity [39]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Characters purposely ambiguous, Gen, I don't know how to tag this, Reminiscing, Self-Reflection, hopelessness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-05 23:18:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13398363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slaskia/pseuds/Slaskia
Summary: A Cybertronian laments on recent happenings in his life and what happened to those he cares deeply about.





	A Bit of Hope

**Author's Note:**

> This short technically happens a bit later in the overall 'Trust and Loyalty' story line (if right after, I haven't decided yet: damn plot scraplets), but it's vague enough that I can post it now.

Focus.  He had to focus. 

He took a steadying intake as he gripped the etching tool and started again.  Carefully, lightly scoring the bare metal with faint scratches, starting an outline.  An outline of a memory, of what came before.  Of what he wanted to always remember.  Remember how he used to be…how _they_ used to be. 

So much had changed in such a short time. Short in relation to how long they lived anyway.  It was frightening how things could fall apart so quickly.  Vos.  Cybertron. 

Starscream. 

He gripped the tool hard, feeling a wave of grief.  _What happened to you?  What made you change so drastically?_   He had no answers.  Nor did his friend, whom was somewhere on the ship, likely in on the bridge monitoring comm chatter.  Trying to find clues to those answers. 

He wanted to help, but he was very limited on what he could do.  So much of his body was still so fragged up.  No wings.  No right eye.  Vocalizer busted.  Fuel pump faulty.  And probably a thousand little things neither had noticed yet.  Like his left hand, which still ached from time to time.  Being a Sharkicon chew toy did that to a bot…but at least he was alive. 

Unlike his brother. 

He grasped at his chest, feeling the hole in his spark that would never be filled again.  When he felt his twin’s spark extinguish, he wanted to die, but Primus apparently didn’t want him yet.  Damn him.  

His friend was doing the best he could to fix him up, but while he had extensive knowledge of Cybertronian biology, fixing it was a different matter.  If it wasn’t resources, it was knowledge.  He could help with the resources part at least:  his abilities allowed him to steal form the Con’s so easily.  To think he once worked for them. 

But that was only because of Starscream. 

He considered Starscream more than friend.  He was a brother, family, to him.  Someone he would do almost anything for and was by his side for so much pain and suffering.  What did he get in return?  A messed-up bomb timer, nearly becoming Sharkicon chow and a dead twin. 

 _He wasn’t himself._   That was something he kept telling himself over and over again.  Something he knew was true, but it didn’t make the pain any less.  Worse, there was no way of knowing if Starscream realized that himself. 

He sighed and put the tool down before rubbing his face.  Feeling every scar and imperfection that now marred his face.  Imperfections that could be easily fixed, but function came before beauty, he was told.  He agreed:  he’d rather have his wings back before the tooth marks of dozens of Sharkicon teeth were erased from his chassis. 

“I see you are finally using the spare panels I provided and not the walls of the ship,” he heard his friend say. 

He soundlessly chuckled, blushing slightly.  Metal etching was something of a hobby he had for a long time, since the occupation era, actually, but hadn’t really had the time or motivation to practice it until now.  Well, he had plenty of _time_ :  motivation was hit and miss.  He largely started it up again just to keep himself occupied, to keep his mind off of the dark thoughts that liked to creep into his processor when he was idle.  It would have been more useful to help with the science stuff…but he didn’t have the smarts for that:  that would have been his brother’s thing…. 

“I have news,” his friend continued.  “About Starscream.” 

Only now did he turn his head to look at him, his lone optic wide with interest.  It was encouraging to see his friend have slight smile on his face, hinting that it was _good_ news for once. 

“He has left the Decepticons.” 

Skywarp turned around completely, feeling a bit of hope for the first time in many vorns.  He signaled for his friend to tell him everything….

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously referencing events of the 'Retribution' novel. 
> 
> Skywarp lives! 
> 
> Thundercracker...not so much. *RIP*
> 
> Whose the friend? You won't find out for a while yet. *evil laugh*


End file.
